


Kiss My Guilt Away

by makesometime



Category: Terra Nova (TV)
Genre: Married Couple, Multi, Older Woman/Younger Woman, Serious Injuries, Threesome - F/F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-01
Updated: 2012-04-01
Packaged: 2017-11-06 14:56:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,711
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/420142
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/makesometime/pseuds/makesometime
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's one of those moments in her life that proceeds in slow motion. Her senses picking up every tiny nuance of her surroundings, ready to store the memory away in her head and replay it at any time without warning.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Kiss My Guilt Away

**Author's Note:**

> This is a gift for sky_kiss at livejournal, a thank you for generally being brilliant (as well as starting this threesome so spectacularly and drawing me into writing it with all of her... wiles).

It's been a week. A long, arduous, week... but a week none the less. She should be over it by now. Usually is over it by now.

Except usually she hasn't let her commanding officer take a hit from a grenade because she wasn't close enough, wasn't alert enough, wasn't _there_.

She should have been there.

-

It's one of those moments in her life that proceeds in slow motion. Her senses picking up every tiny nuance of her surroundings, ready to store the memory away in her head and replay it at any time without warning.

Being informed of her mother's death was one of those days, she can remember the scent of the lilies on the kitchen counter, the heat of the coffee mug in her hands, the exact patterns of lines on her father's face when he got the call...

But her mother's death was not her fault.

Despite being halfway across the battlefield (which also happens to be their encampment, damn the bastards for getting one over on them) she still hears the rush of air preceding the arrival of a grenade. Hears it beeping and looks around in alarm, not used to the enemy having this new technology.

Sees it shining bright metal and flashing red lights a few feet from Taylor.

Who is too busy shoving a broad gleaming knife into the side of one of the braver combatants to have heard the tell-tale sound.

She opens her mouth to scream something, his name, his title... _anything_ but it's too late, her voice is swallowed up by the explosion and she sees Taylor fly backwards into one of the tents a second before she ducks and covers her own head from flying debris.

When the dust settles she's on her feet, coughing, searching for her kit and when she finds it smouldering under a pile of flaming wood she curses – she doesn't have time to risk burning herself to see what's left to salvage if she wants to get to Taylor.

As she stumbles towards him she notes that the gunfire has stopped around her, shifted away; they've got this, they've won this round and if she can just get to her commanding officer then they can leave this godforsaken place and get back to base.

Only once she reaches his crumpled body she realises they're not going anywhere fast.

She falls to her knees, cataloguing his injuries and finding very few beyond an obviously broken leg. Her heart sinks, knowing he must be suffering from internal damage, something she can do nothing about here – even with her kit. She tugs off her jacket as she looks at his face, finds him barely conscious, sees blood dripping from a cut on his forehead and a long streak of it from both ears. 

"You're going to be okay, sir." She says, even though she knows he probably can't hear her. To say it helps, even if it's a lie.

" _Wash_." He croaks, gingerly lifting an arm to gesture at his ears; she was right and it shouldn't _hurt_ this much to know that all the empty platitudes and teasing that would normally spill from her lips in a moment like this will have no impact now, will not be returned with light-hearted ease.

She nods, places a gentle hand on his chest and leans over him so her head hovers just above his; in response she sees him force his eyes open, feels his hand come up to brush a strand of hair out of her eyes.

"I got this, sir." She says slowly, clearly, hoping he can still read lips as well as she remembers.

"I know." He manages, coughs and there's now a third trickle of blood from the corner of his mouth which she wipes away with a careless thumb. He shows a strength he shouldn't have in grabbing her wrist and pressing a kiss to the blood-covered digit. "Wash... look after my family. Please... Look after Ayani."

She shakes her head, half to protest his words, half to stop the prickling of tears she feels at the corner of her eyes at his determination that he won't make it out. "Look after them yourself, sir."

He smiles, presses another kiss to her thumb and then his grip on her weakens and his eyes fall shut and she fights every bone in her body not to steal one last kiss before setting to work. 

A cursory check of his pulse reveals it thready, but still there, still there. He's still alive and she will goddamn keep him so until the medevac she disconnectedly hears her own voice shouting for is with them. She uses a piece of nearby timber as a splint for his leg, straps it to him with her discarded jacket. Doesn't dare to anything else, in case she makes things worse.

When the transport lands and she gets offers to go with him she turns them down, knowing her place is here, with her unit, packing up what's left of their gear and making it back to base in one piece.

But that doesn't mean the sight of him being loaded into the back of the chopper isn't the most gut-wrenching thing she's seen in a while, an image that will stay with her, she knows, for a long time.

-

Standing at the end of his bed now, in this military hospital on the outskirts of Chicago, the entire event replays again... and again... and again.

It doesn't matter that Nathaniel is fine (relatively). That his bones have already knit back together, that his internal injuries are healed, that his hearing will have returned. That he's only in a medically-induced coma for just a few more days and then he'll be straight into physiotherapy (they don't have time to wait for him to heal, this must be forced, they have to get back out there). 

He's still hurt because she wasn't there.

And she can't even allow herself the luxury of openly grieving, beyond her insistence to stay with him – as his medic, she finds it's just about justified. Being at his beside, even just... _holding his hand_ is not her place, she is not his wife – to everyone else, she's just his subordinate, just a friend, just... Wash. No one knows the pleasure they've found at each other's hands, the love (or something like it) that bonds them together with each other, with Ayani.

Ayani...

She knows the woman will be here soon. Knows her days with him alone are numbered and while she welcomes the thought of her vigils no longer being solitary, she knows she won't be able to hide her feelings from _her_ as well as she can from the brass, from the hospital staff.

As she thinks this the door to Nathaniel's room opens and her heart flips in her chest at both the thought of it being Ayani and the realisation that it is not – it's just the young intern, a lovely English woman roughly her own age who speaks to the man in the bed as if he can hear her, doesn't question Alicia over her continued presence. She's even brought her food, before, and they once shared a silent coffee in the small commissary.

But there's something a little different today as she breezes in, greeting Nathaniel as cheerfully as ever, checking his readouts and dressings with the care and attention Wash has come to expect, to value, to admire.

Then she spots the ring on the doctor's left hand and her chest is so tight she can barely breathe.

"Elisabeth." She says before she can stop the word, reaching for the doctor's hand. "Congratulations."

Elisabeth flushes, presents the ring for better inspection with a little laugh. "Thank you. This may well be the most ridiculous thing I've ever done in my life but... I couldn't say no."

"He a doctor too?" Alicia asks, gently releasing her grip.

Elisabeth shakes her head, a wry smile forming. "A cop. Yesterday he got a promotion and thought that wasn't enough for one day, clearly."

Alicia chuckles along with her, trying to pretend that her still all-too-female heart isn't breaking over the thought that she will never have this, not now. If she'd never received the invitation to the Taylors' bed maybe, in time, she might have been able to get over him and find someone for herself. But not now. Not now she's had him, had them both.

It's truly never been anything she thought she needed before. Isn't really sure that she actually _does_ now. But to be presented with the obvious joy of a woman in the face of her own engagement is the last thing she needs right now.

"He's a lucky man." Alicia smiles, and though there's a concern in Elisabeth's eyes (the woman is perceptive, no fool, knows that her patient's sergeant isn't still here for so silly a reason as being his _medic_ ) she smiles and nods all the same.

"Yes, he is." She says, and with one last look to Nathaniel she leaves the room, leaves Alicia alone.

Again.

#

She happens to be out of Nathaniel's room when Ayani first visits and she's not sure if that's the best or worst thing that could have happened. To avoid that first heart-rending moment of a wife seeing her injured husband can only be a blessing, but surprised and instantly on edge is not the best condition to be in when you're trying to hide your emotions from the most observant person you know.

After leaving to find an orderly to harass into making sure Nathaniel's dressings are changed with greater frequency, she returns to the room to find his wife standing by his bed, grasping his hand like a lifeline; her friend as ever a picture of vitality, even in the cold sterile room. 

Before all of this Alicia was welcome in their lives... in their home... in their bed. She no longer feels deserving of any of that.

She stops dead in the doorway, shocked to see Ayani there and surprised at the lack of warning to expect her – from either the staff or the older woman herself. Knowing how much Nathaniel would want his wife to be granted full privileges he wasn't conscious enough to demand, Alicia had seen to Ayani's addition to the clearance list. But it usually takes much longer than this to grant someone entry to such a secure facility; it seems that conscious or not apparently what Taylor wants, Taylor gets.

Ayani appears unsurprisingly collected – her eyes are rimmed pink but Alicia expects this is from lack of sleep rather than tears. Tears would be a weakness Ayani Taylor could not abide, not when she could be of use. Whether she's determined her healing husband or his sergeant most in need of her assistance isn't immediately clear to her.

_You did this._ Her mind supplies.

Ayani looks up from her husband and catches Alicia watching her. A broad, sad, smile forms at the sight of her and the twisted pain in Alicia's gut tightens even further. It's _Ayani_ that should have always been at his bedside, not her. _Ayani_ that deserves the respect of medical staff as they do their rounds.

Because Ayani didn't nearly get Nathaniel killed.

"Alicia." Ayani breathes and her feet are instantly carrying her around the bed to embrace the taller woman; Alicia's arms come around her without conscious thought. The older woman lets out a shuddering sigh against her, arms falling around her waist with familiar ease; taking comfort in her that Alicia doesn't feel worthy of giving.

_You caused this._

"How are you?" Ayani asks from where her head rests against Alicia's shoulder, soft breath caressing the skin over her collar bone as her lips move scant millimetres away from making contact. The memories of sensations so similar and yet in such different circumstances play havoc with Alicia's mind.

The younger woman scoffs, steps back and looks pointedly at the bed. " _I'm_ fine."

" _Alicia_." Her tone is at once chastising and comforting, imploring and understanding. And it chips away at the wall Alicia's been building up around her heart in preparation for this moment.

"I'm _fine_ , Ayani." She repeats and the older woman chuckles softly, muttering something that sounds like ' _soldiers_ ' under her breath.

"Okay Alicia, I won't push." Ayani says, taking her husband's hand once again. "But you will tell me eventually, do you understand?"

Alicia feels the blood drain from her face, hopes it's not as blindingly obvious to the woman across from her her; knows it is from her expression – steely, determined. _Ayani_.

"Yes ma'am." Alicia mumbles, trying not to look like she's figuring out her exit strategy.

"Stay, Alicia. Please." Ayani says quietly. "It'd be nice for once to talk to someone whose job isn't to spill empty platitudes when I enquire after the state of my husband."

_You can't, you can't, you caused this._

"I'm sorry." Alicia says, and it's barely a whisper. "I can't. I'm sorry."

She turns on her heel and leaves the room, no destination in mind, simply somewhere that's not that room, somewhere without guilt and pain and memories.

But of course it doesn't work. Because she carries the guilt and pain and memories _within_ her and will do until long after Nathaniel wakes up.

#

After two weeks intense physiotherapy (it should have been five) Nathaniel is allowed to leave the hospital for a week's recuperation at home before they ship back out to Africa.

And, despite her best efforts to avoid it, Alicia finds herself going with them. 

Her attempts to get a commercial flight rather than travel in the military transport along with them are swiftly denied by Ayani, though she spends the entire flight pretending to sleep while listening to the Taylors talk quietly about the attack, their fears, their love... and her.

She's aware enough that they're worried about her without overhearing them discussing it, but she feels so miserably unworthy of such attention that she shuts herself off from the two people who care about her most. On the first night, and every night that follows she insists on using their spare bedroom so the couple can reacquaint themselves (their assertions that she is more than welcome to join them can't be true, they _can't_ ). 

Lucas is away at school so she doesn't even have him as a distraction from the turmoil in her head. She ends up taking lots of walks, going on lengthy runs, generally avoiding being in the house. She rises before Ayani and that is all that matters; she knows if the older woman were awake to stop her leaving in the mornings she would definitely find a way. One morning Nathaniel is waiting in the kitchen with two steaming mugs of coffee; she just gathers a bottle of water and walks straight on through, ignoring the sigh she hears behind her, knowing he won't push her (somewhat wishing he would).

And then, the next day, Ayani is awake.

And more than that – Ayani is angry.

The front door is deadlocked when she tries to leave, the key for the door missing. Alicia turns to find Ayani standing behind her, key dangling from fingers, face painted with a terrible mixture of concern and disappointment. "Looking for this?"

Alicia closes her eyes, weighs the odds of her being able to grab it and flee without repercussion. "Ayani..."

"No, don't. Don't." Ayani steps closer, doesn't touch her, not yet. "I told you that we would talk about this, do you remember?" Alicia nods, mute. "Well, that is exactly what we're going to do." She says, tone brooking no argument.

She turns, drops the key on the sideboard (as a test, Alicia is certain) and heads for the kitchen. "How do you want your eggs?" She calls over her shoulder as she disappears from sight.

Alicia sighs. Knows the time has come to stop running. Follows her friend into the kitchen and doesn't see any of the relief she expected on the older woman's face when she appears at her side – at least someone still has faith in her. "Scrambled, please."

Ayani nods, gestures to the table with her spatula. She doesn't need to give her any instructions, Alicia goes without protest and waits for her breakfast to be placed in front of her. When it is it looks as perfect as ever but her appetite (already not the biggest due to years of surviving on MREs) has barely existed for the past week or so, nerves and guilt filling her stomach instead.

She tries, she does, and as promised Ayani continues not to push, just eats her own meal in silence. But once she's finished she shoots her a look that suggests her restraint is nearly over, so Alicia slides her plate away, mostly uneaten, and waits.

"What's wrong?" Ayani starts, then shakes her head, frowning. "No, wait, that's far too simple a question. Alicia, tell me why you're avoiding us."

Alicia sinks back into her chair with coffee cup in hand, using the heat as both a comfort and a punishment, the ceramic far too hot against her palm. She considers lying, but realises it's about as useless as running away has been. "I don't... _deserve_ it."

Ayani gapes at her for a second, leaning forward on the table. It's the first time she's managed to shock the older woman but it's not an experience she finds herself savouring. "Why would you _say_ that?"

Alicia shrugs."He's hurt because of me."

"Did you throw the grenade?" Ayani asks without missing a beat.

"No, but..."

"Alicia, were you where you were ordered to be, doing the job you were ordered to do?"

Alicia runs a hand through her hair, looking anywhere but the woman in front of her. "Yes, but..."

"Then it is **not** your fault."

"I could have..." Alicia leans forward to rest her elbows on the table, bringing her forehead to her palms. "I could have been there. I should have been there. I could have shouted sooner, alerted everyone. That's what I _should_ have done."

"And distracted everyone from their own work? That's what the enemy wanted, Alicia. Nathaniel would take a grenade any day of the week if it meant the survival of his unit. As, I expect, would you." Ayani reaches forward and gently encircles her wrists, pulling her hands away from her face and linking their fingers. "Tell me I'm wrong."

Alicia shakes her head. "I can't do that, ma'am."

Ayani nods, squeezing her hands tightly. "Good. Now. Can I ask you a favour?" Alicia just nods. "I am under no illusions that this conversation will act as much more than a temporary balm to you. I ask that you stop avoiding us, Alicia. Let us help you. Share our bed tonight."

Alicia doesn't think there are enough words in the world to express her current emotional state; a combination of the long-standing guilt and pain mingles with hope and a little bit of anticipation and a healthy dose of appreciation for the woman whose life she could quite easily have ruined – the woman who has saved her from herself far too many times.

Instead of trying to verbalise this mess of feelings she just nods, smiles (a little jerky, but genuine) and watches as the older woman rises, dropping a kiss on her head as she leaves the room.

Should she have followed, she would have seen Ayani meet her waiting husband on the stairs, kissing him softly.

"Did you hear?"

Nathaniel nods, forehead creased with concern. "Every word."

"We have to help her, Nathaniel." Ayani says, pressing herself close to her husband's chest.

"We will, Ayani. We will."

#

That evening Ayani stands beside her husband in the doorway to their bedroom, a united front against an issue both of them want nothing more in the world than to solve. 

Alicia is in their bed, as requested. However she might as well not be, given the way she has curled up on her side at the very edge of the mattress, tucked protectively in on herself. Her eyes are closed but Ayani knows she's not asleep, not in her current state of mind and especially not since she only got under the covers a matter of minutes ago.

"Go to her, Nathaniel." Ayani whispers, clutching her husband's hand tight between both of hers. She brings it to her mouth and kisses his fingertips when he looks to her for permission, despite her already granting it. "It's you she needs, not me. Go to her and help her heal."

Ayani watches as her husband slips silently across the room and under the covers of their bed, sliding across until he is flush against the back of his sergeant. Alicia stiffens for all of a second before letting out a heartbreaking choked half-sob half-whimper, melting back into Nathaniel's supportive embrace.

Ayani stands there, hand pressed to her chest in a blind effort to keep her emotions in check (blind since she can already feel the first tear tracking down her cheek; wills there to be no more, wills herself to stay strong). Seeing the younger woman so nakedly undone by circumstances completely out of her control is something she has never planned on dealing with. Alicia holds her emotions in a vice-like grip, has learned as much from Nathaniel over the years under his command.

She gives them a moment to settle, hears her husband whispering words of comfort in Alicia's ear. Sees the younger woman let out a shuddering breath and nod, leaning into him even more fully. Sees her husband's arms tighten around Alicia's middle and smiles, knowing the comfort his touch will be bringing her.

She slowly shuts the door behind her and crosses to the bed herself, laying down on the unoccupied side. On impulse she leans over and kisses her husband's shoulder blade, squeezing his arm before settling back down.

She sees the remaining tension ease out of the muscles of his back and nods to herself, content that by morning things will be calmed, if not (never) solved so easily.

#

It's been two hours and Wash isn't asleep. Anyone else in the world she might be able to fool, even Ayani. But not him, never him.

"Wash." He murmurs, mouth next to her ear; feels her shift in his embrace.

"Yes sir?" She responds, one hand moving to rest over where his are joined over her stomach.

He takes a moment, wondering if his next words will just make things worse; decides to say it anyway. He's never been one for skirting around the issue, should have said this to her sooner. "It wasn't your fault."

Her breath catches, hand leaving his to fist in the pillow beside her head. "You nearly _died_." She says, her voice harsh with emotion, as if speaking such words will make the nightmarish idea a reality.

"That's true." He agrees. "But I didn't. And if I focussed on every time I nearly died Alicia, I'd never get anything else done." He feels her mouth quirk against his arm, just for a fraction of a second before it's gone once more. Well, he supposes that's progress. "If you had been closer to me, what could you have done?"

She's quiet for several beats, thinking. "I don't know."

"Exactly. Hindsight is a hell of a thing, Wash. But for all you know if you'd been closer to me then _you_ could have died." Nathaniel says. When she starts to shake her head, his hands spread wide against her abdomen, holding her to him. "And don't you _dare_ suggest to me that that would have been better."

"It wouldn't have meant living without you." She says, her voice barely audible now.

Nathaniel removes his arms from around her, scooting back to allow himself a little room yet still not disturb his sleeping wife. He reaches a gentle hand out to smooth over Alicia's side and pull her over onto her back, shifting his weight to lean over her, blue eyes locking onto her deep brown. 

"Alicia, I'm here. I'm here now." He says, before ducking his head and capturing her lips for the first time in far too long.

Immediately she whimpers against his lips, both hands coming up to hold the sides of his face, to hold him to her. Their tongues battle, lips gliding over one another's for so long that he blissfully loses track of time in her arms. His hands begin to roam her now very willing body, cupping her breasts and teasing the sensitive areas he has mapped in his mind. It's only when his hand travels further, slips under the band of her pyjama pants and over the curve of her that she pulls away, heaving in a gasp of air.

" _Ayani_." She whispers, looking at the sleeping woman beside them.

"Wants you to be happy." He replies, followed by a chaste kiss to her lips and an advancement of his hand. When her eyes flutter closed at the sensations, he smiles. "As do I."

When Alicia opens her eyes again and her eyes flash with the same determination he's so used to seeing there, he knows that he has _his_ Wash back, at least for a while. And there's no way he's not taking advantage of that.

Rolling onto his back he pulls her with him until she's straddling his lap, chest pressed firmly into his. "Gonna need your help here Wash, not up to much."

She snorts, the tiniest of noises as she feels him harden against her. She presses back against his length, mouth falling open in a silent gasp as his unclothed heat presses against the cotton barrier between them. He retracts his hand from her and uses both to push down her pants, which she shimmies out of of without preamble. He leaves her tank in place, suspects such exposure might be a step too far – and besides, they can work with what they have now just fine.

Alicia moves her hands to beside his head, unwilling to put unnecessary weight on his chest – he wishes he'd told her before how much he loves the bite of her fingernails into his chest whenever she rides him, will miss it this time, but knows now is not the right moment to bring it up; he's not willing to break whatever spell is falling around them silently with reminders of his injuries and limitations.

When she lifts up and slides down on him he lets out a groan that pales in comparison to the long, rumbling moan that leaves his second. He watches her face contort in pleasure, sees one lone tear escape the corner of her eye and lifts himself up to kiss it away, trailing his lips to hers and swallowing the new moan that comes as he thrusts up into her.

"Don't leave me." She whispers against his mouth, leaning over him as she works into a rhythm.

His hands, resting on her hips now, squeeze tightly in response. "I'll fight every damn day to make sure I don't, Wash."

#

When Ayani awakens, it's still dark within the bedroom. It takes her a moment to process her surroundings and figure out the cause of her leaving slumber.

The mattress is moving slightly under her, a slow rhythm that rocks her body gently. Soft sighs, moans, the sounds of skin on skin make her look to her right and her breath leaves her in a rush at what she sees.

_Gorgeous_.

Alicia is always stunning in moments such as this, her tan skin shining in the moonlight, a curtain of dark hair around her face. Her husband's hands are firmly on the younger woman's hips, guiding the rolling motions of her against him. His eyes are fixed firmly on her, drinking her in, adoring her completely. Ayani feels no jealousy, only a slight hint of envy at the way they are so wrapped up in each other – but they both needed this so badly that she can't deny them their pleasure.

Nathaniel notices she's awake first; she can tell by the way his hands tighten on Alicia's skin, as if preparing for the moment that his sergeant notices and will reflexively try to shrink away.

And that moment comes soon after; Alicia reading something in his eyes that prompts her to look over at Ayani who tries to keep her face as impassive as possible, watching with only pleasure, no distaste.

It doesn't stop Alicia sitting up immediately, trying to move off of Nathaniel if not for his vice-like grip on her holding her down.

"Ayani..." She says, her voice cracked with... what? Guilt? Her face is certainly showing such emotion as clear as day and Ayani wants nothing more than to chase it away.

"Keep going, Alicia." She intones, rolling over onto her side and propping herself up on one elbow.

Alicia shuts her eyes and shakes her head, wiping a unsteady hand over her eyes even as she struggles against the superior strength of the man beneath her.

Ayani sighs, rises onto her knees and scoots closer to the couple. Her husband's legs, previously bent at the knee with feet braced on the bed to aid him in thrusting up into Alicia, fall flat on the bed as she starts to move. She shoots him a small, grateful smile, receives the same in return before she shifts to sit behind the younger woman, encircling her waist with her arms.

"Alicia." She whispers, the word sending a shiver of pleasure through the woman in question and her husband's eyes fall shut as the sensation is relayed to him. "Please, trust me. Keep going."

It takes a moment, a breathless, anxiety-filled moment, but Alicia slowly flexes her thighs and pushes up against Nathaniel's hands with purpose this time, rather than the intention to escape. Ayani rewards her with soft hands on her abdomen and Alicia bucks her hips in response, drawing a groan from her husband. 

Ayani tugs the tank over Alicia's head, throwing it somewhere behind her before tracking both hands higher on her body, each cupping a breast. The younger woman leans forward slightly, hands braced either side of Nathaniel's chest for leverage as she begins to move in earnest. Ayani squeezes slightly, drawing a gasp from Alicia and uses her thumb and forefinger to tease both nipples into hard peaks that she's itching to draw into her mouth... but now is not the time. She leaves one hand to continue her work, while the other runs down over Alicia's toned stomach, pausing with fingertips resting along the line of her hip. She lifts herself up to look over the younger woman's shoulder and smiles at the grimace of pleasure invoked in her husband's face when her hand slides forward to tease Alicia's clit; she knows from experience the sergeant's muscles clamp down in response to this sensation, is pleased to have brought joy to the pair of them with such a simple act on her part.

Her hand slides further, to the point where her lovers are joined and she lets her fingers part around Nathaniel's length, further stimulating the already sensitive area. Nathaniel's hips thrust hard in response, his sharp grunt of pleasure mixing with Alicia's moan and Ayani's chuckle of laughter to create the most beautiful melody she has had the pleasure of hearing. She runs her fingers back and forth, pressing her smile to the back of Alicia's shoulder as she watches her husband race towards the edge under her ministrations.

In fear of setting Nathaniel too far in front of his second she retracts her fingers back to Alicia's clit and begins to circle gently, light touches that soon turn into a firm pressure around the bundle of nerves. She swipes her finger over it with increasing frequency in addition to the circular motion, uses her other hand to pinch at the younger woman's nipples in perfect time to her thrusts against her commanding officer.

It's a combination of these sensations that sends Alicia taut before she shatters, her release screamed out into the bedroom. It's almost outdone by the harsh roar of Nathaniel, whose hips thrust up into her with a bruising force as he spills into her. Ayani gasps as she watches the pair come undone, the sight alone enough to make her actions worthwhile, even if she goes wanting herself. She eases up on her hold of the younger woman she she flops forward onto Nathaniel's chest, utterly boneless. 

Ayani watches her husband shift slightly, pulling out of his second and laying her gently beside him. Ayani settles on the other side of the woman, tangling her legs with hers to hold herself close. 

"Do you believe me now, Wash?" He asks, voice little more than a rumble.

Alicia nods, pulls him down for a lazy kiss. "You're here, sir." She says as she pulls away, turns her head to face Ayani and smiles. "Both of you."

Ayani smiles tenderly, leans forward to steal her own kiss, tongue pressing briefly to the younger woman's before she quickly retracts, biting her lip and humming a little. "There'll be time for that later."

Alicia grins, a flash of white teeth in the darkness that convinces both Taylors of the fact that she is well on the road to recovery. "I'd like that."

"Me too. But I do believe you've been denying yourself much-needed sleep. I think it's about time we fixed that."

Alicia nods, turning towards Nathaniel when he eases her into his side, head pillowed on his chest. Ayani slides up behind her, arm around her waist, possessively flattening a hand against her stomach. The younger woman's eyes are already closed when she shares one final look with her husband, sees nothing but love in his clear blue gaze (nothing else should ever be there) and knows the same is reflected in her own.

In the morning they will continue to assure Alicia that all is well, they are all alive and (relatively) healthy, no one is going to be left alone. But for now, they sleep.


End file.
